More Musings by Robert Goren
by Traci
Summary: Sequel to 'Late-night Musings.' Alex finds a certain book while being snowed in at his place... what will it lead to?


Disclaimer:  Yes, they are mine, all mine… and yes, life is happy in my little world here.  I like it.  Don't disturb it.  The purple talking elephants would not like that.  Sigh, okay, if I must… they really belong to Dick Wolf and company.

Rating:  PG

Category:  Humor, Eames/Goren friendship, UST, and possibly more

Spoilers:  Still not caught up on the show so I don't know.  If there are, they are completely unintentional.

Author:  Traci

Archiving and feedback:  Yes to amorous intent and anywhere… just anywhere else let me know.  Feedback is always craved at traci_ann@yahoo.com.  

Summary:  Sequel to 'Late-Night Musings' (can be found at fanfiction.net).  Months after Goren's musings, a snowstorm hits and they are stuck at his place while working on a case.  Will he survive or will Eames shove a certain book down his throat? 

Author's Notes:  After some requests and a few threats, a sequel was written.  I am merely a product of my environment so therefore cannot be held responsible for any insanity portrayed in this story!  (Huh, perhaps I should have become a defense attorney).  And I guess in some way this is dedicated to all of us in the Northeast who had to endure a very snowy winter (though, thank you, I missed it all… and yes, am quite depressed about that cause I love snow sniff).

Special thanks to Tracy L. for her encouragement and beta-ing abilities with this.  Also to Kiwi for her help with the real endings of fairy tales!

More Musings By One Robert Goren 

It was a typical early January day in New York City.  The wind howled, driving the blinding snow at chilling speeds.  A soft layer of white already covered the streets and sidewalks but not even snow could slow down the people of New York.

Detective Robert Goren glanced up at the clock on the far wall of the precinct.  For a Wednesday afternoon, time seemed to be moving slower than normal.

"Hot date tonight?"

With a smile, his eyes fell upon his petite partner sitting across from him.  "No.  I guess… I guess it's the snow.  Thoughts of shoveling yet again and such."

"Ah, yes, that."  Alexandra Eames' eyes sparkled in amusement at him.  "Something tells me they aren't going to let us go early over a few inches of snow."

Goren sighed.  "Guess it was just wishful thinking."  He returned his attention to the paperwork on his desk.

As it neared five o'clock, the wind still howled outside, rattling the windows and sending chills through even those indoors.

"How are you making out with the Sohockey case?" Goren asked.

Glancing up at him, Eames shook her head.  "Looks like another late night here."

Just then their boss emerged from his office and announced that all but a skeleton crew were to remain in the building.  Everyone else was to head home before the storm became worse, as was the latest weather prediction.

Eames and Goren looked at each other.  

"Your place or mine?" she asked.

He shrugged, got up and went to a window.  When he returned, he said, "Looks like mine."

"That bad?"

Goren nodded while he picked up a bunch of files.

"Will this winter never end?" Eames mumbled as she too picked up a number of files and packed them away to take with her.

**************************

By the time they reached Goren's apartment, he had taken his partner's briefcase so she could wrap her coat tightly around her.  

They both stood outside his door shivering as he fumbled for his keys.  

Once inside, he immediately headed to the thermostat and turned the heat up then turned back to Eames, who was still shivering in her coat.

Placing their briefcases down, he helped her out of her coat.  "I'll make us some… uh, would you prefer coffee or tea?"

"Tea sounds good," she said.  "I'll make it if you want.  You go change.  You must be freezing too."

With a nod, he disappeared into his bedroom.

Eames filled the teakettle and turned on the burner then rummaged through his overly organized cabinets in search of teabags.  

"Lower left hand drawer," he said behind her, causing her to jump.

"Could you make a little noise next time!"

He grinned.

She turned around and immediately had clothes handed to her.  Her eyes questioned.

"I realized you didn't have anything to change in to and thought you might want to change.  They, uh, will probably be a bit large on you.  There is a box of safety pins in the bathroom." 

"Thank you."

"I'll finish here.  You get out of those wet clothes before you catch pneumonia."

A few moments later she returned to the kitchen.  

He laughed when he caught site of her.  The legs of the sweatpants he had given her were rolled up at least five times, as were the sleeves of the sweatshirt.

Eames merely smiled.  "A little big, but warm.  Thanks again."

"Anytime.  Tea's ready."

Each taking a mug, they retreated to the living room, where Goren immediately turned on the Weather Channel.

"The Northeast from DC up to Boston will be buried under at least two feet of snow before this storm begins to move out of the area," said the reporter.  "If the artic front moves in while the low pressure system is still off the coast then you can add a few more feet.  If the artic front holds off, the total amounts should range between 24 to 36 inches."

Both groaned.  

"I'm thinking a transfer request to Miami during the winter months might not be such a bad idea," Eames commented.

"Why don't we do what we can with the Sohockey case?  Something tells me we aren't going to be going anywhere tomorrow."

They spent the next few hours discussing every angle of their present case.  Before the electricity went out, they were even able to obtain some further information from the internet.  Around midnight the weight of the snow and the strength of the wind finally caused many electrical wires to collapse, leaving half the city in the dark and cold.

Goren and Eames scrambled around his place for candles and matches.  She was already sitting on the couch when he returned with two heavy blankets.

"It's going to get cold," he told her, handing one to her.

Then she noticed it.

"Bobby?"

"What?"  His eyes followed hers to the pile of books lying under his coffee table.  "Oh, that."

Shaking her head, Eames laughed.  "I thought that was just a one-night thing."

He shrugged.  "It really is a fascinating subject, though."

Quickly, she held up her hand.  "Don't even start again.  I don't think I could take it."

Goren leaned down and picked up not one, but two books.  "For example, did you ever know the real ending of Cinderella?  Ravens pecked out the eyes of her stepsisters."

"Bobby, I'm warning you."  She knew her protest was in vain, though.  Once Robert Goren got stuck on a subject he would never give up until he had an answer or solution that suited him.

Opening one of the books, he handed it to her.  "See, the Grimm's Brothers wrote a completely different ending from what we see today."

She looked and was quickly sorry she did.  For there would be no stopping him now.

Taking the book back from her, he flipped through the pages.  "This one… this one was the one I found among the most disturbing.  I had actually forgotten most of these, though my mother never really did read to me much."  He showed her the story he was talking about.

Eames bit her lower lip to keep from laughing.  "Bobby, 'Rumpelstilzchen' was never meant to be a happy story."

"But…"  He took book back and glanced through the story.  "Here."  He pointed to a paragraph.  "To describe that he tore himself in half?  Not to mention, this is a good example of someone selling their soul or, in this case their child, to the devil."

"From the other perspective, it is a good example of good beating evil," she offered.  "How many times in our cases have we seen the desperation of people?  People who would do anything for something only to find out in the end that it was a mistake?"

Goren studied her and thought of her statement.  "So you are telling me not much has changed."

"I'm only saying that while the story may not be the Disney version, they were also lessons."

"Tom Thumb."

"What?"

"A story about parents selling their only child, a child they had desperately wanted.  And not only did they sell him, they sold him to thieves."

Eames sighed and got up from the couch.

"Where are you going?"

"To get aspirin.  I think I'm going to need it."

He smiled at her as she went to the kitchen.

****************

Nearly two hours had passed since the latest round of discussion regarding the horrors of fairy tales had begun.  Eames had scared herself with how easily she could discuss the social ramification of them with her partner.

"Now, nursery rhymes… how many children did 'The Gingerbread Man' terrify?" he asked with a yawn.

"You bite the legs off first and he can't run," she chuckled.

He shook his head and plodded on.  "What about Old Mother Hubbard?  She goes to get her dog a bone, finds none. . . goes to get him some bread but he's dead when she gets back.  What kind of story is that to tell a child?"

"Good way to remind them how necessary it is to feed their pets?"

Continuing as if he had not heard her, he said, "Then to say when she got back from buying a coffin for her dog, she finds the dog alive and well?  Children are led to believe that things can come back to life."

"Thus the reason to make them read Stephen King's 'Pet Semetary'."

His eyes widened at her.

"I was kidding!  I would never show a child that movie or make them read the book."

"It actually could be less threatening than some of these stories.  Going back to Little Red Riding Hood… The wolf… the wolf eats the grandmother then her . . . then is mutilated by a hunter who finds the two women alive and well inside the wolf?"

Eames sat thinking for a moment.  "What about Sleeping Beauty?"

Goren flipped through his library book of fairy tales.  "I, uh, don't see it here."

She smiled, taking the book from his hands.  "There was nothing traumatic about Sleeping Beauty.  No horrific alternate ending."

"But wasn't there a witch or something involved?  She poisoned Sleeping Beauty and such."

"Yes," she admitted, placing both books on the table.  "But the ending was just as we know it.  The prince found her, kissed her and they lived happily ever after.  No ravens blinding people, not hunters butchering wolves, no babies falling from trees, no dead dogs.  Just a happy ending."

A smile spread across his face.  "Okay, so there was one."

Eames shook her head and yawned at the same time.

"I… I'm sorry.  I didn't realize how late it was," he quietly said as he stood up.  

"It's alright.  But I am tired."

He nodded.  "Do you need anymore blankets or anything?"

"No, I'm fine.  Hopefully the electricity will come back on soon, though."

They both blew out candles and she snuggled back on the couch under the blankets.

"Are you sure you don't want me to take the couch?" he offered.

She smiled.  "I'm a lot smaller than you.  I fit on it better."

"If you need anything…"

"I know how to search a house," she teased.  "Goodnight, Bobby."

"Goodnight, Alex."

*************************

Sometime near dawn, Goren awoke very warm and was blinded by a bright light.  'Electricity must be back on,' he thought.  Climbing out of bed, he quietly padded out to the living room to turn off the lights there and check on Alex.

He stood watching her sleep for a few moments.  Smiling, he turned off the lights.  With just enough light coming from the hallway, he knelt beside the couch.  Hesitating, he placed a feather-light kiss on her lips.  She didn't wake.  "Figures," he mumbled, disappointedly.  Quietly, he got up and went back to his bedroom.

In the dark, Alex opened her eyes and could not stop grinning.

********************

 The next morning, Eames smiled when she saw Goren sitting on the floor beside her reading through the fairy tale books.  Propping herself up on one elbow, she asked, "Find anything good?"

He jumped.  "Good morning."

She smiled, the memory of his lips touching hers still on her mind.  

"Must have been some dream," he said.  "You've been smiling in your sleep all morning."

"I wasn't dreaming.  Just relaxed," she lied.

"Ah."  His tone let her know he didn't believe her.

Sitting up, she stretched.  "Heat's back on?"

He nodded.  "Came on a few hours ago."  Goren got up from the floor.  "Are eggs alright?  It's all I have actually."

Eames laughed.  "Yeah."  She, too, got up and made her way to the bathroom.

Breakfast was all laid out when she returned from her shower.  "You shouldn't have gone to all this trouble," she told him.

"Enjoy it now.  Who knows how long we have until the electricity goes out again."

"I take it by the fact you didn't wake me for work that we're snowed in yet again?" she asked, taking a bite of scrambled eggs.

"Whole Northeast corridor is shut down," he told her.  "That artic front did move through.  We have about three and half feet outside right now."

"And it's only January," she reminded him.

"Yeah.  What were you saying about a transfer request to Miami?" he grinned.

"So, do you think you have now analyzed enough fairy tales and nursery rhymes?"

"Well, there was one more."

She looked at him over her forkful of egg.  "Dare I ask?"

He looked at her plate then back to her.

"No, not over breakfast.  I was never able to even think of eating venison again after seeing Bambi.  You are not going to destroy eggs for me."

"But think about it.  How sad of a story it was.  There he was sitting happily on a wall until he lost his balance."

"No, Bobby!"

"How many of us developed a fear of heights based simply on the fact that Humpty Dumpty fell off of a wall?"

Eames placed her fork back down on her plate.  "What kind of cereal do you have?" she sighed.

The End 


End file.
